Blaze
by ICantThinkofanOriginalName
Summary: He had watched from the shadows as the infamy he so rightly deserved was stolen from him, while those stupid little girls denied him his place in the world. He should have been a ruler over them! He would be patient no longer. Those pathetic ants - sorry, "citizens" - his dear sisters had protected for so long would worship him like the god he was, or Townsville was going to burn.
1. Chapter 1

_***Rated T for language and violence.***_

_**-Eleven Years Ago-**_

_John Utonium was a brilliant man - a genius, really. It had taken him a few years to find his calling, sure, so he was never considered a "child prodigy" or anything of that sort, but discovering his brilliance during grade school was hardly a late start. He had had years to practice his craft, and practice he did. His life passed him by in a steady blur of notes and equations. Success came quickly and easily. He was highly regarded amongst his peers. Truly, truly brilliant._

_But for all of his brilliance, the echoing, ringing, screaming emptiness of his home, of his life, of his everything served as a constant reminder that sometimes sacrifices must be made for success. He had earned diploma after diploma, reward after reward, and who was there to witness his greatness?_

_Nobody. Not a single bloody soul but the test monkey that clambered around in its cage, or even occasionally around Utonium's lab itself. But right now the monkey was quiet, observant. John's latest experiment had proven successful, and the monkey's once-simple mind was now able to comprehend the heaviness of the atmosphere, the indications of major changes about to occur within the room, and seemed to be waiting nervously from its place in the corner. The silence of the lab pounded in John's ears and once again he was reminded of his absolute, utter loneliness. It stung him. For all of his faults, he had always pictured himself as a family man. A kind husband, a good father, a decent provider. Maybe he was not the most suave or svelte man in the universe, but surely there had to be somebody out there for him._

_Although, it was rather difficult to meet somebody when all of one's time was spent in a lab._

_The gray hairs that had begun to pepper his hair at the temples had caused some small amount of panic. He was running out of time. His window was closing. Likely, he would never find "the perfect woman." That family that he had always pictured cheering him on as he was granted yet another reward for his work, that he could take to the banquets and ceremonies held in his honor, that would be there when he came home from work and provide some small amount of noise in the background to cut through the sheer devastating silence that pervaded his lab otherwise - well, that picture was slowly slipping away._

_He had become desperate. Sure, it was...an unusual way of going about things, but he was going to solve this problem the only way he knew how - through science. He may not be able to find "the perfect woman," but he sure as hell was going to have the perfect child._

_The jeering laughter and looks of shock and horror rattled around his brilliant mind as he worked. How dare they dismiss him from his position at the university. He was the best one there, damn it. An absolute and utter genius. They saw what he had been able to accomplish with that chimp. He had created a great intellect out of a mere simple-minded creature! Never before had such an accomplishment been made within the great realm of science. Never. So, of course, it only stood to reason that he should continue his work, move on to the next great project. A project that would solve his own problems - killing two birds with one stone, in a manner of speaking._

_Alchemy. Witchcraft. "Playing God." What did those fools at the university know? That was what they were after all. Fools. For only a fool would fear the unknown. But a superior intellect such as himself did not balk at such things. No, if John Utonium wished to create life, then by golly he would. __He was no Victor Frankenstein. This wasn't a monster cobbled together out of leftover pieces of a rotting corpse. And goodness knows he wouldn't even touch the thought of galvanism. No, he was just a normal man whose secret dream had never been realized. Until now._

_The ingredients had been added with extreme care. Two pots stood boiling before him, swirling and roiling, both of them a mix of reds, pinks, golds, and oranges. Utonium had some...doubts...as it were, about a few of the ingredients. They were not what he had been expecting, but when a dead end had left him to try something unusual - well, the whole process was unusual, so what could it hurt? He had noted, with some amusement, that his chemical brews had reacted rather strongly with these few particular substances._

_To the pot on the left, he added the final three ingredients. Funnily enough, he had found his answers in an old nursery rhyme. Quietly, he murmured "snips and snails and puppy-dog tails" to himself as he watched the substance boil more vigorously. He had found an early text of the nursery rhyme using the word "snig" instead of snip, which he soon found was a term for a sort of eel used in a northern area of England. Surely this would be the more reactive material. He couldn't imagine how human hair would have helped, and certainly didn't want to risk his perfect little boy harboring someone else's personality because of it. Eels were fast, sleek, adaptable. Surely...surely..._

_Perhaps he was overthinking. He hadn't even tried the human hair method - or the "snips," as it were. Perhaps he should...perhaps..._

_No. If this failed, then he would try again with that particular ingredient in place of the eel. He was already too far into this brew to make any sudden changes._

_He didn't add much of each ingredient, just about enough for what he believed was needed for a single child. Then he turned to the second pot._

_At first, he had only considered a single child, but he soon came to the conclusion that it would be a mistake. After all, the child would be left to his own devices while Utonium was working. No, he most certainly needed a companion. A sister. And then Utonium would have both a boy and a girl, and his family would finally become a reality._

_He sprinkled sugar into the mixture. A potent mixture of spices followed behind it. And, finally, an odd assortment of what he considered to be "everything nice" - a wildflower in full bloom (something from his backyard - a buttercup, perhaps?), a simple child's toy (bubbles seemed to be a favorite of small children, so it only stood to reason that he should use that as the assigned plaything), a shining red ribbon that had been given to him by a childhood crush of his, and the thick tome of a well-loved book (Milton's "Paradise Lost," as a nod to the "Frankenstein" insinuations given by the other academics who had scorned him). Those ingredients made the second pot rather more full than the first, but he would just have to find a way to dispose of the leftovers later._

_The ingredients were in, but the two large pots stood much as they had before. Not a single change had occurred. Utonium's eyebrows knit together and his forehead creased in frustration. Were his calculations off? He shot a look at the large beaker of black liquid that sat on a shelf nearby. He knew it was necessary, but should he use it after all? No. The substance was too new. He had no idea what it was capable of._

_Then again, it had worked with Jojo..._

_He picked up the beaker with shaking hands and carried it over to his concoction. The one on the left had slowed in its boiling and was merely rolling slightly at the top. That would have to be the one he tried it on first. He lifted the beaker and held it above the pot. His hands still shook as he poured, and more sloshed over the sides than he had intended. A lot more than he had intended. But the reaction was immediate. It looked promising. He would add some to the other pot as well._

_He turned to his right. He had managed to gain some control over his hands, and an even, well-measured portion was carefully poured into the second mixture. Less than the first, but it produced a similar reaction nonetheless._

_Utonium backed away slightly and watched. The rolling waves began to bubble and sputter over the edges, building and building in pressure until-_

_The explosion knocked him backward. The monkey in the corner screeched and rattled his cage at the blast. No. No! He had put so much work into this, so much time, risked everything! Surely it couldn't have failed. He had...but...what...what was that?_

_Two large eyes blinked back at him, one set a bright, clear, shining rosy pink; the other a harsh, sickly glowing orange._

* * *

**_-Present-_**

Butch tried to stretch his arms out, but the damn shield was really limiting his movement. He barely had enough room to breathe. Not to mention just how _hot _it was in this stupid little bubble. Any smell, every breath he let out, it all was trapped in this stupid little bubble, and the damn thing was starting to _reek_.

Looking to his sides he could see his brothers in their own little "containment" units. They looked about as uncomfortable as he did. Boomer was leaning against the side of his bubble, muttering to himself. There was that sad look again. Was he gonna cry? Geez, suck it up, man. They couldn't look weak in front of the stupid police. That would just make them seem guilty.

It had been three weeks. Three whole fuckin' weeks and they had barely been let out of these stupid bubbles to even piss. He had to sleep practically standing up. Damn Townsville. Damn police. Arresting him and his bros for something they didn't even do. There he had been, studying for some dumb math test that he had to retake - _again - _when a whole fuckin' swat team bursts down the door.

Had he broken any laws? No. Had his brothers broken any laws? No. Hell, the damn monkey hadn't even been up to anything at that point. So why were he and his bros here?

Because Mr. Big Bad Police Chief had a _gut feeling _that they had committed a robbery downtown a few weeks ago. And they had been there ever since.

Ah, there was the idiot of the hour now. He was pretty new, only just recently replaced the chief that had been there since Butch had been born, and it seemed like he was trying to prove a point. Whatever, asshole, make an example out of someone else. Butch was _innocent. _Well, innocent was a loose term. But he sure as hell didn't rob that bank!

The chief - Johnson, or whatever his name was - leered at him from the other side of the forcefield, or whatever it was.

"Well, well, Rowdy boys. How's it feel to finally be behind bars?"

No, not Johnson. It was Jamison. Or just James? Johanson?

"LISTEN FREAKS! I got a pretty little Powerpuff who wants to talk to y'all, so you gonna cooperate or do we gotta hit you with a special little _antidote?"_

Could be Jackson. Jarvis? Jacobs? What had he been saying? Did Butch even care?

No, he did not.

Oh look, the shield was lifting. Was it their potty break already?

"STEP OUT SLOWLY. HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEADS - KEEP 'EM WHERE WE CAN SEE 'EM!"

Brick and Boomer were stepping out of their own little bubbles. Guess that was his cue to leave, too, then.

He was separated from his brothers by a line of guards, and the three of them were marched slowly down this hallway, then that hallway, and then another hallway, and - oh look, a set of stairs. That was fun. Nice way to shake things up a bit. Let's see, where were they now? Looked like the main floor. Oh, was that an interrogation room? Fun, fun.

Butch was shoved down into a chair and handcuffed to the table. Well, shoved was a strong word. He could feel the officer trying and decided to throw him a bone and sit down nice and quiet.

It was awfully crowded in the investigation room, what with three chairs sitting on one side of a table for him and his brothers, two chairs on the other side, and guards lining the walls. Mayor Bellum walked in, her shiny red heels clicking with each step. He had to admit the lady was still pretty smokin', even at her age. She took one of the seats across the table, and Chief What's-His-Name took the other. Were all of these people there just to see him and his brothers? Aw, how sweet.

They were waiting for something. He could practically smell the guards pissing themselves with excitement. Chief Jackass shot him another confident, jeering, toothy grin as the door opened again.

Gosh, Butch wanted to punch those teeth out.

The room got quieter - if that was even possible - as one cute little pink Puff walked in. Cute? The hell? Dammit, not another slip. That had been happening a lot more often lately. If his brothers caught wind of him...

No. Nevermind. There was nothing to think about there. He and his brain had already had a long, hard talking to about that new little habit, and he knew better than to give a voice to that teeny tiny minuscule little part of his brain that didn't entirely despise Blossom Utonium. So what if she wasn't as annoying as her sisters? So what if she had started wearing skirts again lately? So what if he had to sit behind her in his history class. So what if he could smell the soft scent of roses for hours after that class was over? Didn't mean anything. Nope. Not a single thing.

She did look exhausted, though. Her normally bright eyes looked glassy and tired, and the deep purple bags underneath them made them even more rounded than normal. Butch idly wondered what it could be that would keep Pinkypuff up at night. A grin broke out across his face as he thought about himself being the thing that kept her up at night. Brick shot him an annoyed look from his place at the other end of the table.

The Puff in question set a stack of papers on the table and looked around the room. Ah, yes, there was the smell of roses. He let himself enjoy it a bit. Not that he, ya know, _liked _the smell or anything, but he had been stuck in a nasty prison for three weeks, after all. Anything clean-smelling would have been a nice change.

Pink eyes wandered the room, briefly meeting with Brick's. Her eyes narrowed at the contact. Was that a challenge, Pinkypie? Butch could use some entertainment, and a red showdown seemed interesting. It had been a looooong three weeks. Go ahead. Try to tell his brother why he was such a bad guy. Just try him. Brick had facts, proof, an alibi. His brother had thought about every single detail proving his innocence - out loud, no less - in these past weeks, and he was ready to throw them out to anyone who tried to tell him otherwise.

It had been a very. Very. Long. Three. Weeks.

An exasperated sigh cut through the room, and the guards all stood a little straighter. What a bunch of pansies. She hadn't even said a single word, and they were still standing at attention like she was some sort of general or somethin'. She started pacing across what little space was left next to the table. Her eyes gave Butch and Boomer a once-over - not the the blue noticed, since Boomer's eyes were darting around the room so quickly Butch could feel a breeze coming off of them. She shook her head and turned away again.

Now, Butch didn't know Blossom very well. He rarely talked to her at school unless it was absolutely necessary - like if she was trying to break up a fight he had started - and Buttercup was the only Puff he had actually physically fought in years. But see, he had been in the business of getting on Powerpuff nerves for a long enough time that he could tell when she was getting angry. It was always subtle, but he could tell. Her shoulders would tense up defensively, her eyebrows would arch ever-so-slightly, and her bottom lip would appear to grow slightly smaller as she sucked it in to bite down on it, but not so much that it was noticeable. At least, not to anyone other than him, anyways. It was almost adorable.

No, no it was not. Dammit, mind-Butch, just _shut up. _

She flashed a smile to the room. It was fake. Dangerous. A mask to cover up the anger that was clearly building. Well, if she wants a fight, then-

Wait.

That smile wasn't being pointed at him or his brothers.

...

Was it pointed at Chief Jerkface?

"Chief Matthews, I understand that you have arrested the Misters Jojo in connection to the robbery of Townsville First National Bank, yes?" Well damn, Butch hadn't even been close to getting the guy's name right.

"Yes," the idiot said smugly, flashing yet another nasty grin.

"The robbery on September thirteenth, correct?"

"That is correct." Ugh, those teeth we so yellow.

"You were the one who personally ordered that these boys-" she gestured towards the Rowdyruffs and Butch frowned. He was a _man, _dammit "-be arrested the next night?"

"Indeed." And the teeth were crooked, too. Really, Butch could fix those easily with just a single punch. He would be doing the chief a favor. If he hit hard enough to knock them out, workman's comp would probably pay to get the guy a whole new set.

"And did you read the report before making the arrest?" There was a pause after that question, and the smile slid off the asshole's face. Well, now now, wasn't that interesting?

"Yes." That reply was strained. Very interesting. Out of the corner of his eye, Butch could see Brick straighten up in his seat and lean forward.

"The report that I personally made and handed in to the Police Department after handling the situation with my sisters a full twenty-five minutes before any officers were able to make it to the scene?" The anger was growing on Blossom's face. Oh, there were gears turning in the pretty little head of hers.

DAMN IT MIND-BUTCH, JUST SHUT UP.

Yes, there were gears turning in that _very __average _head of hers.

There was a much longer pause before the chief answered with another angry "Yes."

"You see, I don't quite buy that, because in that report-"

"ARE YOU CALLIN' ME A LIAR," the jerk roared. Butch's hand twisted into a fist at that. So chief thought he was a tough guy, yelling at a Powerpuff?

"-I had clearly stated that there were seven robbers, all evidently non-super, and all aged in their mid-twenties and above." She finished talking as though she didn't hear his outburst and paused for comment. No one said anything, and the chief glared angrily at her.

"So imagine my surprise," the ginger teen continued, "when I was going through the monthly reports and didn't find a single one of the robbers that my sisters and I had personally rounded up and quite literally handed to your officers. No, apparently they had 'escaped' and ALL SEVEN were able to elude you. So I searched through the report and found no evidence of an investigation launched as to their whereabouts. No, in fact, these men weren't mentioned ever again after my own report."

Her hands slammed down on the table and she leaned in towards the now cowering chief. "And I thought, 'oh, maybe it's been misplaced.' That does, after all, happen from time to time. So I made a little trip down to the precinct and did a little digging, and I found it funny that no investigation in regards to the actual culprits appears to exist anywhere within your files." Part of the stack of papers she had brought in was slid across the table. The chief, ugly smile now long gone, stared at it with wide eyes as Mayor Bellum picked it up and scanned the pages.

"Ya know what, I think that's enough for this little interrogation today. Why don't we just go ahead and wrap this all up," Chief Matthews said while reaching for the papers when it became apparent that Bellum wasn't happy with what she was reading. A hand shot out and blocked his before it even came close to the pages, and suddenly Blossom was leaning over the older man's shoulder.

"Oh no, Chief Matthews. I prepared a whole big speech on this matter just for you, and I really think you ought to hear it out." Uh oh, Butch knew that look. That look was one he had used plenty of times in the past decade or so. Pinkypie was ready for a _fight._

She shook out a couple of pages and held them up in front of her, her eyes flicking from the page to Butch and his brothers, then back again.

"So if you look here, we have shots from the CCTV footage of the bank robbery. Now really, I don't see any resemblance between our dear Rowdyruffs and these robbers, do you?" She shoved the pages under the chief's nose. "So unless you know something that I don't, or somehow these three magically gained the ability to both change their appearance and multiply themselves, then I don't really see the purpose of putting them in jail."

"Well, I...they...you see...but...THEY'RE FREAKS! Evil! A menace to society," the chief sputtered. Blossom was already shaking her head at the response before it had even finished.

"No, well, you see, once again I find myself unable to agree. If you take a look at their file," she pulled a folder out from her stack of papers and threw that down in front of Mayor Bellum, "you would see that they haven't committed a felony in about, what is it now? Eight years? And they already did the time for that. Now, there have been a couple of misdemeanors-" she shot Brick a glare at that "-but those have also already been addressed and taken care of. At best they are a minor nuisance."

Aw. That was the nicest thing she had ever said about Butch.

"Did you even have a warrant when you went to arrest them?" Blossom's voice was rising in volume and the pink tint on her cheeks grew stronger. Butch smiled. He was thoroughly enjoying every moment of this.

"Well, no, you see-" The asshole really should just stop trying. All he was doing was riling her up more. And riling her up ought to be Butch's job. MIND-BUTCH, STOP IT. JUST. STOP. He really needed to have another long talk with himself after this. This was bad behavior, and not his normal kind of bad.

"Mayor Bellum, I told you that this man wasn't fit for this job. He has incarcerated three minors for a crime they didn't commit, despite all the obvious evidence proving their innocence. And notice how there's no mention of a trial date? No, he was just going to leave them locked up here for an undisclosed amount of time. Why, you might ask? Well, see, I think he was proving a point. Trying to show what a big, bad, tough guy he really was. He was making sure we all took him _seriously._"

"I resent that!" Ugh, what a stupid, stupid man.

"You know what I resent? I resent people purposely breaking the law." She slammed another paper on the table. "I resent people abusing their positions." Another paper. "I resent people giving me more paperwork to do just so they can _prove a point." _Another paper. The room was getting colder, and Blossom's eyes were flashing with anger. "And do you want to know why?"

"Go ahead and tell 'im why, princess," Butch called out. Pink eyes flashed over to him briefly before turning back to the police chief.

"It's because _I _have to clean up _your mess _when everything hits the fan." Blossom stood up straight and rubbed at her temples. Damn, she looked tired.

"I have too much going on right now to deal with this. Miss Bellum, I sent a report to your office this morning. I think you can agree in this situation that we have more important issues to focus on at this time. Chief Matthews, these boys need to be out of here by tomorrow morning, and you better pray that they don't decide to sue the city for your stupidity." Again with the word boy. Butch. Was. A. Man.

The door slammed, and suddenly Blossom was gone. The room was silent as Mayor Bellum stood up. "Well, Chief Matthews. I think I have heard enough. I can assure you that there will be an investigation, and I will personally be reviewing _these_." She picked up all the papers Blossom had left behind and made her own exit from the interrogation room. Butch started cackling wildly, and Chief Asshat was glaring down at the table.

Well, that actually was fun.

* * *

Blossom was breathing heavily as she leaned against the wall outside the police department, trying to force herself to let go of the anger that had tried to flare up while in the interrogation room. She couldn't help it. Seeing that familiar trail in the sky the night before had left her skittish and stressed, and sleep had eluded her that night previous. Her eyes scanned the skies about her warily. Perhaps Buttercup had been right and that orange streak last night had just been "a shooting star or something," an anomaly, but the familiar nervous twisting in her stomach told her otherwise. That streak had been all too familiar, and she had frozen in fear before trying to shoot after it in a blinding rage at the sight. Her sisters had had to practically drag her home.

She should be out searching in the direction it had been traveling, but no. She had to fix yet another one of Chief Matthews's messes. That man had barely been there a full three months and had already caused more trouble for her in that time than the former chief had in an entire decade of working together. She simply did not have the time for this ridiculousness.

There was a small clatter down the street from her, and she jumped into a defensive stance. A rat scurried out from a pile of trash that was sitting on the side of the road, and Blossom breathed a sigh of relief. Buttercup was right. Just an anomaly. There was nothing that she should be worrying about. She wasn't being watched. He was gone, he had left town for good, and they had seen neither hide nor tail of him since that awful night. He wouldn't dare come back here, not after what he did. He knew better. He was smarter than that.

Blossom needed to calm down. Maybe it was still early enough that the guys could come over for a little bit. They had a lot that they needed to work on before the weekend came around, after all. It would be embarrassing for them to mess up in front of that big of a crowd.

There was another slight clatter, this time from behind her. Nevermind about the guys, she was just going to go straight home and work on her school work. They already had plans to meet up after school to practice tomorrow, anyways. She shook off the feeling of being watched and stepped into the road before taking off into the air in the direction of her home. It was an uncomfortable feeling, not having her sisters with her after dark.

A sickly orange pair of eyes gleamed sadistically as they traced the path of the familiar pink streak shooting away.

* * *

"My house! My phone! My guitar!" Boomer practically left a trail of slobber across their living room as he kissed each item in it. Butch rolled his eyes at the sight. He was glad to be home, too, but nobody saw _him _making out with the furniture.

Brick was sprawled out across the couch, staring at his phone. They hadn't even been home a full five minutes and the lazy ass was already bored. At least the monkey hadn't shown up yet. Butch already had a raging headache from their checkout that morning - he hated reading the paperwork - and he was not in the mood to listen to that rant right now. He walked over to the small kitchen and opened the fridge. There were a bunch of bananas and a half-gallon of milk. Wonderful. Thanks for thinking about everyone else who lived there "dad."

There was a massive crash from down the hallway. Boomer had probably launched himself into his bed in his room. What a doof.

He took his own phone out of his pocket and slid his thumb lovingly over the smooth screen before pressing the button to unlock it. There hadn't been any messages waiting for him when he got home, nobody asking where he was. Brick had had a few messages from girls that he had dates lined up with before he was thrown in prison, and Boomer - the social "butterfly" of the family - had so many messages waiting for him that the phone had frozen for a solid two minutes before he could access them. But Butch - well, he didn't need anybody anyways. He preferred to be alone. The lone wolf badass of the Rowdyruffs. It would be bad for his reputation as the tough one of the group if he ran to some pansy friends all the time.

A squeal came from Boomer's bedroom, and Butch's already pounding headache roared in response to it. His brother rushed into the room and shoved a far-too-bright phone screen in his face. "THEY'RE PLAYING AT THE PARK TOMORROW!"

Butch pushed the phone away from himself and stepped back from Boomer. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know that local band that's really fuckin' fantastic and that I really like and that I've been following for the past year?"

"Ah, hell, will you just shut up about them," Butch groaned. "They're not even good. That guitar girl is the only thing they've got goin' for 'em."

"He's right, Boom, they only have one decent member," Brick mumbled from his spot on the couch. Wow, Mr. Leader usually hated agreeing with him, but Butch guessed he was as annoyed with the blond's issues as he was. Boomer had been way too obsessed with this band, and they weren't even that good.

"And that's all that they need! She's perfect." Boomer flopped onto the couch next to a grumpy Brick, who scowled and scooted away from the now day-dreaming blond.

"Bitch don't even have a face," the redhead mumbled.

"She does too! She just wears hoodies so nobody knows who she is. She's so..._mysterious." _There was a sappy look on Boomer's face. Ugh, it was worse than the sad puppy eyes they had been seeing from the blond for the past few weeks.

"Could be a dude," Butch told him as he grabbed a banana from the fridge and moved to sit in the chair facing the couch. It was better than nothing, he guessed.

Boomer looked angrily at his two brothers. "She is not! Have you ever even heard her sing?"

"Not really. Can't really hear anything over the rat-boy's screeching," Brick commented while Butch took a bite of the banana. Ew, it wasn't even ripe. Disgusting.

"His name is Mitch, and that's his hook, ya know? But _her..._just...wow."

"Like I said. Could be a dude."

Boomer glared at him. "It. Is. Not. A. Dude! She's very much a girl...No. Actually, she's not. She's a _woman. _An angel."

"What's your deal with this chick, anyways," Brick asked. He sounded annoyed and was rubbing at his eyes. Aw, did poor Bricky-boy need a nap?

"She just...speaks to my soul, man." Boomer slouched further back onto the couch with a sigh. Brick rolled his eyes at the sight.

Butch rolled his head in Brick's direction. "Can I punch him now?"

"Nah, he'll get over it. A nice pair of legs and a decent guitar riff won't hold his attention for too long. He'll have another 'angel' by next week, I guarantee it."

"I will not," the blond protested. "She's my soulmate!"

Both Brick and Butch snorted at that response.

"Sure man. Listen, just bang the chick and move on. If I gotta get dragged to one more concert..." Butch trailed off.

"Brick met his last three girlfriends at those concerts!"

Brick chuckled. "Heh heh, yeah, guess I did. You say there's another one tomorrow?"

What a couple of idiots. Butch stood and stretched. "Well, y'all have fun with your _soulmates _or whatever. Imma get some sleep."

"No Butch, you have to come with us! You might even meet somebody!" Ugh. That sounded so..._optimistic. _What was his brother's deal with trying to hook him up with random chicks? Butch had already told him a hundred times before - he was a lone wolf. He didn't need anybody for anything.

A pair of pleading, sapphire-blue eyes bore into him from the couch. Nope. He wasn't gonna look at them. Boomer wasn't going to rope him in this time.

But the eyes looked so damn...sad. Dammit. "Fine, but I'm not stayin' the whole time."

Ugh, now the eyes were way too happy. "You won't regret it, bro. I promise."

* * *

Blossom adjusted a tuning knob slightly. She had gotten out of school almost an hour ago but was only just now able to make it to Mike's basement for practice. Stopping by the police station to ensure her orders had been followed had involved a lot more paperwork than she had anticipated.

She was starting to really hate paperwork.

Buttercup was lounging on the old, worn-out couch that occupied what little space wasn't being taken up by the band's equipment. Mitch was replacing a cord on his bass and complaining to Buttercup about something that had happened during the school day - Blossom wasn't following the conversation very closely and had only caught "shoelaces" and "vomit", and to be quite honest she didn't really want to listen after that.

The Floyjoydson twins were sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch near Buttercup. Wes hopped down the stairs, his white-blond hair flopping into his eyes. Mike struck a single chord to test his guitar's tuning and moved to the center of the room to talk to the band. "So, guys, we have a gig tomorrow night at the park-"

"Gig implies y'all are getting paid," Buttercup shouted from the couch. The Floyjoydson twins laughed loudly at the comment, and Mitch shot them a look.

"Well, anyways" Mike continued, "it's going to be the biggest crowd we've ever played for...hopefully." He chuckled nervously and plucked a guitar string. "Well, we know that there are at least going to be three people there." He shot a hopeful look at Buttercup and the twins.

"Four, if that Jojo kid shows up," Mitch said, sending Blossom a wicked smirk. Buttercup snorted from her place on the couch.

"Oh man, I almost forgot about your _biggest fan. _Is that why you busted 'em out of jail, Bloss?"

Blossom rolled her eyes. "I didn't 'bust them out.' I'm not going to let anyone go to jail unjustly if I can help it."

"You sure you just didn't want to see your _boyfriend, _Blossy," Wes asked as he sat at the drums. "You gonna take the hood off for him this time? Show him that pretty face?"

"He's not...Whatever, guys. Let's just practice, okay?" Blossom looked down at her own instrument, trying to make the redness that suddenly filled her face leave.

"Yes, ma'am," Mike agreed as he began to fumble around on his own guitar, waiting for the others to take their places to play. Buttercup was still chuckling and muttering to the twins on the couch. "Ready? Five, six, seven, eight..."

* * *

_**I'm not sure if anyone is even going to pay attention to this story, but I'm giving it a go anyways. I've been having a rough few months and am trying to get back into a regular schedule. Part of that is going to be writing more consistently as a stress reliever, so I've given myself a Nanowrimo-esque challenge for the next few weeks. Hopefully, I won't get on anybody's nerves. I'm going to try to update my other stories as well before the next chapter of this one comes out, so it may be a couple of weeks (unless I get too caught up in this story and forget everything else, which I do sometimes) **_

_**I do intend for this to be a rather long story. I have a lot of ideas for it, at least. I want to say a sincere thank you to anyone who read all the way to the end of the first chapter and gave it a chance. I really do appreciate it. I would super love a beta reader for this since I'm always super nervous about putting new chapters up, but I'm not sure how to go about that, so if anybody knows please tell me!**_

_**Just a fair warning, the rating may be subject to change in later chapters. I haven't decided completely which direction to take this story, but some directions are a little more "grownup" than others.**_

_**See y'all soon!**_

_**-ICantThinkofanOriginalName-**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**-Eleven Years Ago-**_

_Both children had beautiful auburn hair that fell like silk past their shoulders. The boy had a shirt the color of burnt umber with a single black stripe across the middle, and a simple baseball cap adorning his head, hanging low to nearly cover his eyes. The girl was dressed in a soft pink dress with a similar black stripe and her hair was tied back with a bright red ribbon, very similar to the one that the professor had placed into the mixture she sprang from. _

_The boy's orange eyes locked unblinkingly with John Utonium's own excited gaze as the older man happily explained the circumstances of the two children's sudden existence, while the girl's bright pink orbs flitted around the room rapidly as if searching for something. Finally, her gaze came to a rest on the container that housed Professor Utonium's Chemical X compound, and she walked purposefully towards it, cutting off the Professor mid-sentence. Grabbing a beaker off of the shelf, she went to fill it, but hesitated and turned towards the man._

_"I'm sorry, but...would you happen to remember how much you used for...me?" Her eyes were filled with a serious sort of sincerity that melted John's heart, and suddenly he was grasped by a strong sense of paternal pride as he heard her speak for the first time. _

_"Just 10 milliliters for you, I believe."_

_She nodded and set her sights on the chemical once more. He watched as she filled the small beaker past the ten-milliliter mark, up to twenty._

_"Oh, I, um, I wouldn't recommend-"_

_"Just...just trust me, please. There's still more," she assured him as she backed towards the remainder of the mixture that had created her. With her own gaze still locked on his, she reached up and began to tilt the beaker so that the dark liquid spilled into the pot. Her face had a look of such calm certainty and her voice held a natural authority that he felt an overwhelming sense of trust towards her. Of course she couldn't possibly know what she was doing, but she just seemed so sure of herself that he couldn't bring himself to question her._

_"Stop! What are you doing?" The boy yelled, and suddenly, in a flash of cadmium orange, he had flown - wait, flown? - to the girl, reaching out as if to stop her, but the Chemical X had already been poured into the mixture. It sputtered, much like it had before, and a sudden flash of an explosion temporarily blinded the Professor once more. As his vision readjusted, he was met with two more childlike figures, both apparently female, standing on either side of the first 'daughter' he had created. All three of the girls were very different from each other. The two most recently-arrived were polar opposites: one with baby blue eyes and shining blonde hair pulled into pigtails, the other with piercing lime-green eyes and brunette hair so dark it was nearly black. The blonde smiled brightly at him, holding her hands behind her back innocently, while the brunette grinned confidently. _

_"I'm sorry, but it seemed like there was enough left, and I just couldn't...I don't know. I'm sorry. Allow me to start over," the auburn-haired girl took a deep breath, then sent him her own stunning smile. "Hi! What's your name?" The girl in pink asked politely, her voice taking on a tone of increasingly friendly familiarity with each word. The sudden happy greeting startled him, and he had to recover slightly before answering._

_"Oh, um, my name?" The professor stammered. "It's, uh...uh, Professor! Professor Utonium. Hello!" he told them, bowing slightly as he did so._

_The three girls answered in perfect synchronization, "Hello, Professor Utonium! It's very nice to meet you!"_

_The Professor stared down at the children, dumbfounded, before holding out a hand to them. "It's very nice to meet you, too! Um, uh...what are your names?" __They were clearly sentient and had a strong grasp of language, which was more than the Professor had expected them to have. Surely they would have named themselves as well? _

_The blonde and brunette turned expectantly towards the middle - for lack of a better word - sister, and she gestured to him. "Well, you made us, so shouldn't you also name us?"_

_It was a fair point, and the Professor stammered out, "Um, okay." He walked towards them and knelt down to their eye level, muttering "this is so cool" as he went. "Well, now, let's see. Because of your directness and opening right up to me, I think I'll call you...Blossom." The girl with the auburn hair smiled brightly at him, and the blonde standing to the left of her giggled. _

_"Well, aren't you all cute and bubbly," the Professor said to the blonde with a smile. "That's it! You'll be my little Bubbles." She grinned ecstatically and started bouncing with joy. "So, we have Blossom, Bubbles, and..." The Professor turned towards the brunette on the right, who was blinking expectantly at him. "Buttercup! Because...it also begins with a 'B'!" The newly-named Buttercup looked less than impressed as she crossed her arms with a 'hmph' and glared at him. He supposed he could do better, but he had already given her the name and didn't want to confuse her, so hopefully it would stick. "And together, you are three perfect little g-"_

_There was a sudden crash that made the group of four look in the direction of the pots on the counter. The boy was standing there staring darkly at them, hand still outstretched from pushing his own creation-pot to the ground. The remaining ingredients spilled haphazardly across the floor, and there was a shocked silence that filled the room. "Oh, um, I'm sorry! I just got too excited!" The Professor stood and made to move towards him. "I'll call you...Bennet!"_

_"You'll call me what I want you to call me," the boy cut him off with a glare. "And if you'll excuse me, I would much rather not have a couple of useless pack-mules following me around like 'Blossom' has," he said with a sneer. The girls looked indignant, and each folded their arms. _

_"Pack-mules?" Buttercup growled. _

_"Now, now, let's not have that," the Professor told them with a nervous laugh. "After all, it is your...your...birthday. It's your birthday! I should get gifts!" He turned and ran up the stairs, exclaiming, "Wow, I can't believe it! I wanted to make some kids that I could teach good and bad, right and wrong, and in turn, maybe they would do some good for this terrible town, and now I can! All I gotta do is be a good parent!" as he went._

_Professor Utonium returned home shortly with an assortment of playthings for the children. He wasn't sure what kids these days were interested in, or even if these four would care for such menial things as toys, but he wanted to make some sort of gesture to establish goodwill between them. He didn't even mind the two extra children. The sheer miracle of their creation was almost more than he could comprehend._

_He rushed back into the house, gifts in hand, murmuring, "Note to self, good parents don't leave their kids home alone," as he made his way back to the laboratory. "Sugar, spice, and everything nice. Snigs, snails, and puppy dog tails. Who would have guessed that's what perfect children were actually made of! I still can't believe it worked! I actually made four perfect little children! Four perfect, normal-"_

_He slipped on the stairs, the gifts in his hands flying into the air. He braced himself for a painful impact that never came, and opened his eyes to find Blossom quite literally floating in the air supporting his weight. _

_"Professor, you should be more careful when coming down the steps," she chided as she set him on the ground below. "You could get hurt!"_

_Buttercup and Bubbles moved into view holding the dropped gifts in their hands. "Hey, are these for us?"_

_The Professor nodded dumbly at them, trying to comprehend the sight before him. Children, flying? The three girls were zooming happily through the air around the gifts, the boy floating off to the side with his arms crossed, glaring as his sisters joyfully exclaimed at the gifts. Buttercup claimed all things sports-related, Blossom a globe and a stack of books, and Bubbles a small stuffed octopus adorned with a top hat. Each girl thanked him profusely, but Bubbles especially warmed his heart as she told him, "This is the best gift ever, dad," and placed a small kiss on his cheek. Even the boy - Bennet - stepped forward to poke through the gifts for himself and claim a simple yo-yo from the pile. Maybe his son would warm up to him yet. _

_"Yes, it is," the Professor muttered happily. His family. He had achieved that very thing that he thought would elude him forever. He had created a family._

_In the corner of the room, Jojo the monkey gripped his head in pain, watching the scene in front of him through squinted eyes. His brain, which had already been advanced beyond the bounds of normal chimp mentality, grew exponentially, and the gravity of the situation in front of him weighed heavily on his expanding mind._

* * *

Butch leaned back in his seat, complaining to himself - again - that his brother had made him gone to school that day. It was Friday! They just got out of jail the day before! How much would it really hurt them to just wait until Monday to come back? But noooooo, his brother's poor "gpa" was suffering, apparently.

At least the day was almost over, and this was his favorite period. One last class, and then he was free. He smiled as he thought about the nap he was gonna take before Boomer dragged him off to whatever it was he was doing that night.

The faint scent of roses hit his nose as a familiar redheaded classmate entered the room. Look at that, she wore a skirt again today. How nice of her. Honestly, Butch was starting to understand how Boomer fell in 'love' with that guitar chick. If that girl's legs were half as nice as the ones walking towards him, then it completely made sense that Boomer was obsessed.

He tried to make eye contact as she moved towards the desk in front of him, but she was staring intently at the ground muttering to herself, kinda like Brick did when he was thinking about something. Though Brick didn't look half as cute when he did it. SHUT UP MIND BUTCH. He frowned, but smiled again as he thought of something to say to get her attention. Last time he saw her in class she had made a comment about him looking...what was the word she had used? It was something big and fancy. Something about flowers.

"Hey pretty pink, miss me? Am I lacking daisies today?" She looked up before sliding into her seat, and he caught her rolling her eyes.

"It's lackadaisical, Butch. And yes, as always, you are looking very much like a lazy delinquent."

Butch reached up and mussed his hair up beyond its natural spiked mess. "How about now?"

She didn't even look up as she responded, "Yes, you look like quite the ruffian. Congratulations."

Hm. Touchy. Someone didn't sleep well last night. Then again, the purple shadows under her eyes made it look like she hadn't slept in quite a few days. Well, whatever, the Puff could feel tired. What did he care?

He spent the entire class staring at the back of her head, trying to see if he finally acquired the psychic powers he had always wanted. He did not, but he did manage to miss every single word the teacher said as they were given an assignment to do over the weekend. Great, just fuckin' fantastic. He just _had _to go to school today, didn't he?

The bell rang, pulling him out of his daydreams. Was class already over? Why did this class always pass so quickly when every other one he had dragged on?

Blossom stood up and swung her bag over her shoulder, and for some reason, Butch panicked slightly and blurted out "Wait!"

She turned expectantly towards him, her face expressionless and tired as she asked, "Yes, Butch?"

Well, shit. He hadn't planned on getting this far. "I, uh...just...what was Nicole sayin' about a paper?"

He saw her eyes roll - again. Was he getting on her nerves?

He sure hoped he was.

"You can't call teachers by their first names, Butch."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. What do we gotta do for this weekend?"

She sighed. "It's just a quick, one-page essay on Napoleon. We've been talking about the French Revolution all week, and he took over immediately after. It's a shame you missed it, you might have liked the beheadings," she told him with a slight smirk.

People getting their heads chopped off? That was something Butch was always on board for. Did they really have to do the only things he was interested in while he wasn't there?

"Well, great, because I know _allll _about that dude," he muttered, shoving the notebook he almost never used into his own backpack. He looked back up as he heard a small laugh, and Blossom was smiling as though someone had just said something funny.

"I don't know if he's ever told you, but Mojo is quite a fan of Napoleon and can tell you everything you need to know. I know for a fact that he has been...well-educated on that subject." She laughed harder, as if there was something funny about a short French dude.

"Um, okay?"

"Ask him about Blarney while you're at it. He just _loves _that singing sea serpent." If Butch hadn't been confused before, he really was now. Blarney? Singing Sea Serpent?

"Yeah, sure." She turned to walk away from him, still giggling at, well, something, and Butch reached out to get her attention one last time. "Hey, uh, thanks for, ya know, helpin' us out the other day."

She blushed slightly and looked down. "Oh, um, don't think about it. I really just didn't feel like doing the paperwork for it."

"Oh, yeah. Cool, cool. But still, thanks, ya know? If there's anything ya need, just, uh, lemme know, I guess? A Ruff always repays his debts, or somethin' like that."

"Well, thank you for being appreciative." She turned to walk out, mumbling, "It's more than I can say for the rest of this town, at least."

Blossom left the classroom, and Butch finally swung his backpack over his shoulder to leave as well. That was probably the longest he had ever gotten to talk to her. Well, the longest without her wanting to punch him in the face at the end of it.

"It ain't gonna happen," Mitch told him as he shouldered his way in front of him in the aisle.

"Shut the fuck up," Butch muttered, shoving the smaller teen to the side and walking out.

* * *

The sun was going down, casting shadows over the busy park where a group of teens was dragging heavy band equipment out of a dilapidated van that was at least thirty years older than themselves. Blossom sighed and picked up an amp that Mitch was struggling with, carrying it towards the 'stage' with easy as he bandmate muttered grumpily behind her. She set it down next to the flat risers that were serving as a stand for the local bands that were performing that night. Since they had some of the nicer equipment, they had volunteered to let the other bands use their stuff throughout the evening to make setup easier and the breaks between bands shorter. Some of the other young musicians of Townsville greeted her as she approached, recognizing the black hoodie that she wore to cover her features from the crowd.

Attention was not exactly something that she enjoyed, at least when it wasn't related to school or hero work. As a general rule, Blossom preferred to be seen as the boring one of her sisters, a fact which kept her out of gossip and drama at school, and her polite unsociability let her stay home most weekends while her sisters' presence was demanded by their friends. As soon as the talk had died down after _he _left, she had decided that slipping into the background was best. There had been enough talking and rumors after the incident to last her a lifetime. Besides, Blossom had a lot of work to do between school and serving Townsville, and she preferred to be alone when she did it anyway. Excessive sociability would just be a distraction. At least, that was what she had been telling herself for the past few years.

Joining Mike's band had been a bit of a fluke, actually. Their previous guitar player had broken his hand while trying to skateboard and they were desperate for a replacement when Buttercup had mentioned to them that her stick-in-the-mud sister just _happened _to have played guitar since the age of five. Of course, Blossom had kept up practicing since then - what was the point of learning a skill if one didn't work to perfect it? - so she was fairly decent, if she did say so herself. To their surprise, she had readily agreed to play with them without them having to beg. Blossom wasn't a particularly wild person, but part of the teenage experience was acts of rebellion, or so she had been told, and she wasn't going to let her sisters one-up her in that department. Well, give her a guitar and call her James Dean, she was going to be a rebel.

In controlled, legal, half-hour increments, of course.

And without people knowing who she was. She had a very boring reputation to uphold, after all.

Buttercup had been kind enough to give her a very much oversized black hoodie to wear while she was on stage so that it would be harder for people to recognize her, much to Bubbles' dismay. Their blonde sister had a firm belief that anyone going on stage needed to be dressed up, and constantly fought with Blossom to make her wear something more 'fashion-forward.' She had finally conceded to wearing a rather ostentatious pair of boots that the blonde had deemed "fashionable enough"; they were still a little too swanky for Blossom's more conservative taste, though.

Blossom walked back to where her bandmates had gathered and were talking amongst themselves. She stood in the group, quietly listening to their conversation. She had very little in common with the guys, if she was being honest. Buttercup was the one that they had really been friends with before. Blossom was just an interloper who had a skill they could exploit. She didn't mind it at all, though. Generally, she enjoyed their antics, and Friday nights were considerably less lonely than they had been before. Add that to her tutoring them to raise their grades so their parents would let them play, and the group had formed a fairly stable relationship.

She looked towards the eastern horizon and narrowed her eyes. _He _would never have approved of her being friends with such 'mundane creatures,' or her playing a crude instrument like the guitar, which made her being part of the band all the more enjoyable.

The sound of her name followed by bursts of laughter caught her attention, and she found the rest of the group staring at her, waiting for a reaction. She cleared her throat daintily and asked, "pardon me?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, and answered, "Mitch was just wondering whether your _biggest fan _and your new _boyfriend _knew that they had a thing for the same person."

Biggest...boyfriend? "What are you talking about?"

Mitch snorted with laughter. "Oh, c'mon Blossom, you can't tell me that you haven't noticed little boy blue at our concerts lately, have you? He isn't exactly here to see me or Mike, is he?"

"I thought he was here for me. I mean, I don't know about you two, but I'm pretty hot," Wes cut in, sending Blossom a wink.

"But...I don't show my face or anything, so why would he..." Blossom questioned. Her sister grimaced.

"Blossom, sweetheart...sometimes guys are looking at other things," Robin told her as she joined the group and caught the tail end of the conversation.

"...I don't understand?"

Buttercup sighed. "I'll fill you in later. I don't think you want me saying it in front of the group."

"Besides," Mitch called attention to himself once more. "The other one knows exactly who you are, at least at school anyways."

"And _that's _where we disagree," Buttercup interrupted before her sister's face could get more red. "No offense, you're really pretty and all, sis, but I just don't see big-mouth Butchy-boy going after someone like you."

It was Blossom's turn to laugh and turn to Mitch. "Butch? What in the world would give you that idea? I thought Mike was the one with the active imagination."

"Hey, I didn't have to image nothin'! You shoulda seen the guys face when she walked in, I swear it was like he got suckerpunched."

"Yes, well, as someone who has personally suckerpunched that dumbass, I can honestly say I doubt that," Buttercup tried to end the conversation there as she saw her sister pull her hood further over her face, probably to hide a growing blush. As much as she liked seeing her sister squirm from time to time, Mitch would be crossing a line soon and then he would be the one Buttercup would have to punch.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You'll see." Mitch pulled his guitar out of its case and shoved the case back in the van. "When're we goin' on?"

"Uh, after this group it's the Townie's, then that rip-off Jack White dude and his band, and then us," Mike spoke. "By the way, thanks for pulling strings so that amateur night could be held in the park, Blossom. I think this is the biggest turnout we've ever had!"

"I don't think the unwilling walkers count as an audience," Buttercup said blandly, "Besides-" She shot her sister a longsuffering look. "The Powerpuff Girls are proud patrons of the arts," Blossom and Buttercup said in monotone unison. It was one of those lines they had repeated often enough over the years as public figures that it came out as a knee-jerk reaction.

"As we should be!" Bubbles landed a few feet away from the group, a pair of shorts and thigh-high boots in her hands. Someone was in for an outfit change, and that never boded well. "Okay, so, Blossom, you're really gonna hate me for this, but I was scrolling through Instagram and I saw this picture of Ariana Grande and, as always, she had that super high pony going on and it made me think of you, because, well, duh, but she was wearing a giant hoodie just like you, only she wasn't wearing jeans but had on these thigh-high boots instead and this little Louis Vuitton bag and -"

"I'm not changing," Blossom stated firmly. She eyed the blonde wearily; that look in her eyes meant she wouldn't go down without a fight, and the rest of the band had a thing about 'bad vibes' - or something like that - before a performance. Was this worth a showdown?

"Yes, you are. Look, I brought shorts so you wouldn't just be wearing it like a dress! C'mon Blossy, you already have the perfect sized hoodie. Besides, you're dainty - basically the same size as Ari, really - and the oversized thing would just be sooooo much cuter if you dressed it the right way! Please, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeeeaaaaasssssse!"

"Dainty is Bubbles's nice way of saying short," Buttercup muttered to Mitch, who did a bad job of concealing his snort of laughter. Blossom sent them a glare before directly facing the dangerously hopeful blue eyes next to her. "I will consider it. May I see the picture?"

Bubbles squealed and pulled out her phone. The high-pitched noise attracted a number of eyes to the group, a few of which remained for much longer than a few seconds. Blossom considered the photo as it was put in front of her.

"I don't know, Bubbles, it looks like she's showing a lot of thigh..."

"Just do it. You know she's just gonna throw a fit again," Buttercup told her. "Lloyd, Floyd, let's go find somewhere to sit. You wanna come with us, Robin?"

The other girl agreed, and the four of them set off, leaving Blossom with just her smiling little sister and bandmates, all of whom were avoiding eye contact with her. She sighed; it looked like she had been outvoted - again - and they didn't have enough time for arguing before they had to set up.

"Fine, but I get to wear what _I _want to wear next time."

Bubbles giggled triumphantly. "Oh, we both know that's not going to happen, silly! Now let's go, we have to get you changed quickly. The public bathroom is right over there."

Blossom was dragged along, grumbling about the thousands of potential germs and other contaminates that said bathroom may contain.

* * *

Brick watched the blonde girl dragging her hooded friend away from across the park lawn. He had been talked into going to the stupid concert by Boomer, who promised there would be 'lots of cute girls' there. So far, the turnout wasn't too bad, but he hadn't seen anyone that he absolutely had to have yet. It had been a surprise seeing the blue Puff show up. He had seen her at school with some of the people in the group she was with, but he certainly hadn't expected to see her at what could only be described as a bad garage band expo. The music was a little harder than what he suspected she usually listened to.

Well, she wasn't his normal type, but it had been a while since he had a challenge. He had heard that blondes have more fun, and if she could handle being in a not-so girly crowd like this one, then maybe she could handle someone kinda...ruff. He looked at his brothers who were sitting on the old picnic table with him. Butch was staring at his phone and Boomer was watching the bands with interest. It was like the little asshole was actually enjoying the terrible music.

They certainly wouldn't miss him if he left for a few minutes. Brick stood and straightened his cap. "See ya, losers. Don't wait for me." Boomer waved slightly and Butch glared at him.

"I don't wanna babysit the dumbass just 'cause you can't keep it in your pants," Butch growled. Brick sent him his best cocky smirk as he walked away, not even bothering to respond.

He made it across the short distance to the bathrooms and leaned against the wall there, crossing his arms as he watched people go in and out. The girl in the hoodie that had followed Bubbles to the bathroom ran out to meet her group. Was that the girl Boomer had a thing for? Close up, he could see why the idiot had fallen so hard. But that didn't matter. Brick had a different target. And since he hadn't seen her walk out yet, it meant that the Puff was probably alone.

Sure enough, just a few moments later the girl skipped out happily. The whole 'sunshine and rainbows' thing she had going on normally annoyed him, but this time he was on a mission. He moved quickly, managing to 'accidentally' bump into her.

"Wha- oh, hi Brick! Sorry, I guess I wasn't watching where I was going," she said with a bright smile. He gave her "the smolder", a look that almost always worked for him, and the smile was replaced with mild confusion. This was gonna be fun.

"It's no big deal. You can bump into me anytime you want. Kinda surprised to see you here, though. This doesn't really seem like your type of scene." He was banking on her being too polite to just walk away.

"I mean, it isn't my favorite music, but my friends are in a band and Buttercup came to watch them, so why not?"

"Just Buttercup? Guess Pinky's at home with a good book or somethin', eh?"

She giggled as though he had just told her a joke. "Not exactly, but she's not here with _us_ if that's what you mean"

Perfect. No pink chaperone, and the green one wasn't nearby. "That's cool. So, uh, do you know anything about these bands? I'm just here because my brother asked me to come with him, so I don't really know much."

"Aw, that's so sweet!" she squealed. Sweet, huh? Maybe that was the route to go.

"Well, that's just what brother's do, ya know," Brick glanced down then looked back up slightly. She squeaked in delight at the idea of him being nice to his brother. Pair that with the smolder - it _always _worked - and he would have her in no time. "So, you maybe wanna sit together?"

She looked down awkwardly at her hands. "Oh, sorry. I'm already sitting with some people. But thank you, though. Maybe next time!"

Damn. He watched her skip happily towards the stage where the bands were performing, probably to meet her friends. Guess this one was gonna have to be a multi-day project.

"She's a cute one, is she not," a gravelly voice beside him asked. Brick turned around to see someone mimicking his earlier position against the wall of the building that held the public bathrooms for the park. The guy was about his age, with red hair that looked an awful lot like his own, but shorter. He was also wearing a cap, though his was black and facing forward instead of turned around.

"Who the hell are you," Brick asked. The stranger's eyes met his, and he found himself glaring at acid-orange irises. It was unnerving. Shit, people said his red eyes were creepy, but these...these were something else.

"I should ask you the same thing," the stranger replied. "You are, after all, the one that took _my _place. You are the interloper, the thief, taking the infamy that was rightfully mine. And what did you do with it? You graffitied and crashed cars and made a nuisance of yourself. You wasted true potential and ruined my chance at notoriety."

What kind of bullshit was this guy spouting? Did he want to get his ass handed to him?

"The only wasted thing here is gonna be you if you don't shut your fuckin' mouth," Brick warned, placing himself right in the stranger's face and grabbing the collar of his shirt. The dumbass didn't look scared at all, though. No, he was actually laughing at Brick, who felt himself heating up in anger. Whoever this was, he was in for a world of pain.

Suddenly, Brick was blasted backwards with the familiar accompanying sting that followed being blasted by eye beams. But they had come from that guy! Surely...

Brick himself was now hauled to his feet and thrown back into the thick overgrowth of trees that surrounded the park. The foliage was just heavy enough to block the rest of the park from view. Something landed heavily on his chest and winded him further, and a warm breath blew uncomfortably into his ear as the stranger spoke again.

"Now listen here, you insipid neanderthal. I'm only going to say this to you once. I watched as you and those ludicrous brothers were handed what should have been _my _reputation as the antagonist of this godforsaken town. I watched as you let those pathetic little girls defeat you. I watched as you were given yet another chance at the fate I was denied. And I watched as you squandered that opportunity, using your powers to impress stupid girls instead of doing something useful."

Brick shoved against the stranger, who chuckled and stood up, holding out a hand to the still-grounded Brick. Brick slapped it away angrily and righted himself, angrily dusting himself off and glaring at the kid who was just staring back at him. He sized him up briefly. They were about the same size and build, and apparently the dude had powers to some extent. But Brick had taken on much worse before. Without a second thought, he lunged at the stranger.

His attack was dodged easily, and Brick rammed headfirst into a tree, cracking it down the middle. He was dazed by the hit, and blinked several times to turn the three strangers he saw back into one single person.

"Adorable," the stranger growled. "And to think those pathetic little girls had trouble with you. No matter. While I still have your attention, may I make a simple proposal?"

Brick straightened himself and rubbed at his head. "I'm not walkin' down the aisle with you, man."

His companion chuckled. "Oh, Mr. Jojo. How droll you are. But no. I am talking about bringing this dreadful, useless town to its knees once and for all and showing them that I am truly a god amongst men. I was going to offer you the chance to join me, seeing as you must have some potential, though for the life of me I'm having trouble seeing it right now."

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"I had intended for my _dear sister _to join me," the stranger spat. "Oh, but the great Blossom Utonium was too good for that. She saw these weaklings as her equals. Superiors, even. 'Citizens' in need of 'justice' and 'protection,'" he made air quotes as he spoke, his voice growing ever darker. "She could not see what we could have accomplished, and when I tried to show her...well, there is a reason I had to leave for a while. But _you. You _must surely recognize our superiority. You must see how those siblings that have been forced on us are holding us back. You must see how easily it would be to crush these fools. I intend to rule them, to control them. And I am being kind enough to offer you the same chance my fool of a sister refused." He ended his monologue with a tone of finality, looking at Brick expectantly. The look in his orange eyes was strange, similar to Butch's when he went into full rage, yet different. More...dangerous.

"You're fuckin' insane. Do you know how many people have already tried to do what you're doing and failed? Trust me, the Puffs ain't gonna let you...wait a second, what do you mean, sister?"

Brick's question went unanswered as the stranger, with a look of pure fury, pelted him with two large blasts of fire from his fists. The burn was instant, but shock delayed the pain as he stared down at his chest, which now had a searing hole on the right side, with another right below it. But that couldn't have been right. Fire shouldn't burn. Fire shouldn't...he WAS fire! It had never hurt him before...

He reached a shaking hand to the large hole that had been gouged by flame and sunk to his knees with pain. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and the stranger whispered, "consider this your only warning: don't stand in my way," before shoving him into the dirt. Fire was now flickering around him, the trees ablaze and crackling. The heat of it was unbearable; his skin seared and burned. The light was blinding, the smoke filling his lungs. This shouldn't...fire shouldn't be doing this to him. He could control fire. The flames of Him's own hell barely registered with him. So why...why...

Why had fire betrayed him?

* * *

Butch seemed to smell the smoke before anyone else in the park. Most of the people around him were staring at the small stage. The 'love of Boomer's life' was up there with her band, and he had to admit they were one of the better groups...which was saying something because they were fuckin' terrible. Like he said, the girl playing guitar was the only thing that band had goin' for them.

Speaking of Boomer - the dumbass was actually lying on his stomach in the grass with his legs in the air. Butch didn't even want to see the look on his bro's face; it was probably pathetic.

The smell of smoke got stronger, and it seemed like it was coming from the direction Brick had gone. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. He had to stay and watch his blond brother, but the hothead was the one who needed babysitting. And they had just barely gotten outta prison, too! The asshole better not be balls deep into a chick when he found him, or he was gonna give him a more painful sort of pounding. If they got busted because Brick had to have some chick - _again -_ he was gonna punch the living shit outta him.

Butch had just reached the trees when a full fire broke out in front of him. What the hell was his brother doing? Brick hadn't lost his shit like that in years, why would he set the place on fire now?

"Brick?" Butch called out. "C'mon man, I know you're in there."

There was no response, and the fire was only getting bigger. He could hear voices behind him. People were starting to notice. If he didn't find his brother and get him out of there, they would get taken right back into the big house, and pinkypuff sure as hell wasn't going to help out them a second time. He took a deep breath and walked into the trees, grunting as the fire grew hotter and began to burn his arms and face. He would be fine. It wasn't like his brother hadn't burned him before.

He walked to where the fire was biggest, but his eyes began to water and he started coughing. If the dumbass didn't show up soon...

He tripped over a giant tree root. A giant tree root that looked a hell of a lot like his brother. Butch knelt next to Brick and shook his shoulders. "C'mon, bro. Get up. We gotta go."

Butch hoisted his brother up to look at him, but almost dropped him when he saw the giant burns. He felt like he was gonna be sick. The skin around the burn was black and charred, and he swore he could see bone in some places where Brick's arm had been stuck in a flame. "What the hell did you do," he yelled as he threw his brother's good arm over his own shoulders and dragged him to his feet.

Apparently Brick was awake, at least a little bit, because he grumbled Butch's name and something about a crazy person.

A strong, cold wind blew through the trees, and the fire flickered slightly. Butch dragged his brother in the direction of the park. Another breeze, this one even cooler than the last, blew towards him. It felt good against his burnt skin, and he walked straight towards it.

Right at the edge of the park, he ran into one of the Puffs - the blue one - who screamed and called out for someone. His brother was taken from him, and he leaned on his knees to catch his breath. The smoke had been thicker than a...well, something thick. Syrup? Pudding? Did it matter? No, it didn't.

He felt cold wind again, and this time it made him shiver. A flash of pink shot by him, with a trail of ice right behind it. Right. Of course. The Puffs had to 'save the day' or somethin' like that. He better get ready for a fight. Who had taken his brother? He looked around and saw the blue Puff kneeling on the ground with something in her arms - something about the size of Brick.

"What the hell did you do," he asked again, even though his brother probably couldn't hear him from that far away.

"He didn't do it." Buttercup walked up next to him and punched a tree. It shattered under her fist. She looked pissed as hell.

"You don't know 'im like I do," Butch growled. "Just hope the little shit's okay."

He could feel Buttercup looking at him and he waited for the punch to come, but it was taking too long. He looked back. Oh, no. Was that pity? Pity pissed him off.

"Butch," she started. Geez, it was like she was talking to a baby. Where was bitchiness? He needed a good fight right now. "He didn't do it. Trust me. Someone else did."

Butch froze, his old friend anger showing up to play. Someone did this to his brother? Someone was stupid enough to fuck with the Rowdyruff's? His hands started shaking, and he knew his eye was beginning to twitch. He grabbed Buttercup's arm and forced her to look him in the eye. "Who. The hell. Did this?"

* * *

_**Hey guys! You would think that I would be able to write more while in quarantine, but I feel like my teachers have doubled the amount of work they're giving because 'we have nothing better to do.' Oh well. **_

_**I should go ahead and say that I am thinking about changing the rating of this story to M. I know what's coming, and I just feel like the language and violence in general is a little bit too rough to be considered T. I'm sorry if that offends anyone. Let me know what you think. I just want to play it safe.**_

_**I'm trying to write each character with a distinct personality, but I'm not sure if that's coming through. I edited a few small things in the first chapter to help with this, but the overall story has not changed so there is no need to go back if you've already read it. I always seem to find things to change after I publish a chapter, so it's not unusual for me to update my previous chapters a bit when I add a new one. I promise that the content as a whole will not change when this happens. **_

_**As I always so, feedback is super welcome!**_

_**One more note: much of the dialogue from the flashback comes from the Powerpuff Girls movie where they were created. I just wanted to give a quick disclaimer, just to be safe. I don't own the Powerpuff Girls, nor am I as cool as Craig McCracken, and so on and so forth. **_

_**Also, a great big thank you must go out to those who have decided to follow this story. I really appreciate it! I have some big plans for this, and I hope I don't disappoint. I especially want to thank aliasyasmine, BlackRosesKira, and ViolatheGlaceon for their reviews. Here's a fun cat for y'all: **_ (=･ω･=)

_**I have a couple of other stories to update, starting with Peace and Quiet, but I'll try to be back to this soon!**_

_**xoxo,**_

_**-ICantThinkofanOriginalName-**_


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